


your unconditional love was always on my mind

by flintsjohn



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Compliant, Love Confessions, M/M, divorced madi/silver, hints of future thomas/james/john, i never ever want to be in silver's headspace again, silver has a lot of self-esteem issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintsjohn/pseuds/flintsjohn
Summary: 5 times John Silver should have said "I love you" and the one time he did.





	your unconditional love was always on my mind

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello!  
> I've wanted to write this fic for a long time and I finally did it, so here it is!  
> Silver is one complicated boy to get and being in his headspace killed me so I hope you guys enjoy this lol  
> One small clarification about the timeline: IV is set during/after 4x03, and in my mind there is a night between the events in 4x03 and the ones in 4x04.  
> This work is un-beta'd.  
> Last but not least, thank you to the freedomkink chat for enduring my whining about this fic, i love you guys!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ [flintsjohn](http://flintsjohn.tumblr.com)

**I.**

The first time the thought crosses Silver’s mind, he and Flint are standing close to each other in the _Walrus’_ cabin, and Flint has just told him to _stop_ in a firm voice.

Silver feels himself sway closer to the captain, his breath caught in his throat as they stare at each other in silence for a few moments.

Whatever concern he might have just expressed for Flint’s wellbeing, whatever sudden thought he might have just had, it’s immediately put to the side as Flint tells him that he isn’t welcome in his head, and then promptly leaves him alone.

Silver clenches his jaw and collapses on the cot that the captain has previously vacated, letting his hand run on the still warm sheets as his mind wanders back to the three small words that have formed in his head.

Are they even true? Silver has never considered himself capable of love – lust? Sure; affection? At times. But _love_? That has always been an emotion foreign to Silver – until now. He feels paralyzed even by the possibility of such a feeling towards the captain – who, to add to that, has just lost his woman. Silver doesn’t even know if Flint likes men, although at times his behaviour has pointed to it being possible.

As for himself, he has had sexual encounters with men and women, never one to deny himself the pleasures of life. Since the experience in the brothel months ago, though, he hasn’t felt the need to find comfort in a stranger’s body, mostly due to the fact the he always has somewhere to be on Flint’s behalf – and, most recently, to the accident and the self-consciousness that had ensued.

That last thought has bile rise in Silver’s throat. What is he doing, wondering about Flint’s inclinations, when he’s reduced to half a man anyway? What's the point of letting himself indulge in this, when people look at him and only see a cripple?

**II.**

The second time around, the words pierce his thoughts forcefully as he’s staring at Flint from a small distance in their cage in the Maroons’ camp.

He sits down next to the captain, his teeth gritted together to hide the discomfort caused by his infected stump. He is silent for a while, trying hard to push aside the three words that are battling to be freed. 

For the following couple of minutes, he tries his best to convince Flint that there is a way for them to get out of that place safely. He knows that the captain is giving up, and that terrifies him even more than the Queen’s interrogation, even more than a death sentence hanging over their heads.

If Flint were still set on starting his war, nothing would be able to stop him. But the man sitting next to him is visibly tired and Silver has noticed that most of the time he doesn’t even seem to be _there_ with his mind.

So, Silver does what he does best - he talks, and talks, and _talks_ , until the only words that are left on the tip of his tongue are the ones he’s promised never to let himself say. It doesn’t matter, anyway, as long as his speech works and Flint finds a way out of the despairing pit his mind has become.

Days later, as he watches a couple of Maroons help Flint into a new coat, Silver allows himself to breathe deeply, like he hasn’t done in weeks. He distinctly feels relief spread through his body as he makes his way towards the captain, a tentative fondness rising in him as Flint thanks him and they nod at each other.

They are finally together on this, and as long as that is true, Silver feels like they can get through anything.

**III.**

The following days are filled with preparations. Silver forces the three insistent words to the back of his mind as he battles a fever and his newfound darkness, all while trying to hold himself high in the eyes of his men and of the Maroons.

He finds that the young princess’ presence helps to distract him from worrying about Flint. Madi has a firm hand with her men, but at the same time she possesses a unique gentleness and strength of spirit. Silver feels drawn to her, and he can see he has left an impression on her as well.

When the eve of the battle finally comes, Silver knows that he has won Madi’s – and, by extent, the Queen’s – trust, so he isn’t surprised when he finds himself among the three people who know where the cache is being buried.

As soon as Rackham leaves him and Flint alone, he sits and watches the captain work a hole in the ground. A bottle of rum firmly gripped between his fingers, he asks Flint to tell him what is propelling him towards a war against a whole fucking country.

He sits in silence as Flint tells him about the Hamiltons and their downfall in London ten years before, of his escape with Miranda, of how he became captain and killed Alfred Hamilton. He keeps quiet as Flint goes back to detail his relationship with Thomas Hamilton, even if his heart is thundering in his ears at the sudden discovery of Flint’s interest in men – or, rather, _one_ man.

This changes everything for him – where until this point he’s been able to put his feelings aside with the justification that they were never going to be returned, he is now overwhelmed by the sheer possibility that the captain might one day feel the same for him.

He forces himself to stammer out some words of apology when Flint finishes his story, but his mind is still reeling, confused feelings are still twirling in his head, and he finds himself accusing Flint of bringing his tragedies upon himself. The words are leaving his mouth before he can even begin to think of how they might be received. Before he knows how he got there, he’s telling Flint that he’s going to be his end.

Later that night, when Silver gets back to the hut he’s sleeping in to rest before the battle, he admits to himself that there might have been better ways of making sure Flint wouldn’t understand what his true feelings were.

That night, Silver falls asleep to the memory of Flint’s smirk in the firelight.

**IV.**

The relief of seeing Flint alive hits Silver like a cannonball as he stops Hands from shooting him. They walk back to their hiding place, and as Flint recounts the events of the past few days, Silver finds himself staring at him on more than one occasion.

He lets his anger and disbelief towards Billy’s actions cover up what he really wants to say, though the words are still stuck on the tip of his tongue as he runs into Madi’s welcoming arms, as he watches Flint speak in the shack, and later as he meets his eyes across the square when they take Nassau back.

He’s able not to let them slip free even after a few drinks as they celebrate that evening in the governor’s home, but as he lays next to Madi, late into the night, the words flow free from his lips, crashing like waves into Madi's hairline as she sleeps deeply.

He pours every worry he’s had for the last two days into it. As he closes his eyes against the wetness that threatens to spill, he is sure of two things. One, it’s the first time he’s ever uttered those words to anyone, despite Madi being blissfully unaware, and two, they aren’t directed exclusively to the person lying safely in his arms. 

He realizes suddenly – this is what Flint meant when he talked about watching two points at the same time. Silver sighs. It feels like so long ago that he’d had nothing to lose, when in this moment everything he holds dear might be swept away by the faintest of breezes.

**V.**

The gun is trembling in his hand as he stands in front of Flint. His eyes are stinging with unshed tears and his throat is dry as Flint speaks, trying to convince him not to do this.

Silver doesn’t let his words get to him. His mind is set. Arrangements have been done. Coin has been gathered. Word has been sent. The only thing left to do, is for Flint to disappear. 

Silver shivers, despite the damp heat of Skeleton Island. 

_I love you_ , he thinks as Flint stands up, warning him of how Madi is going to react if he goes through with this. Silver knows – God, he _knows_ what he’s taking from them – but he can’t let the war go on, not when it’s going to take either or both of them from him, sooner or later.

“I don’t care,” is what he says instead. He is exhausted. The truth is – he does care. He cares so much he feels like he can’t breathe.

 _I love you_ , he thinks as Flint steps forward, but what he does is aim the gun at the captain, and the words that leave his mouth are, “This is not what I wanted.”

Much later, as they are finally able to bring Flint back to the ship and sail to Savannah, Silver stands alone in the cabin, his gaze unfocused as he feels his heart clench with each passing moment.

It’s done. He has stopped the war against England and now he just needs to reunite Flint with his long lost love and sign a treaty with the Maroons. He will have to let the captain go and he’ll have to face Madi when he returns to the camp.

The journey to Savannah is tense. Flint is barely eating and he refuses to speak, though he still makes clear that he doesn’t believe a word Silver’s said. Silver can’t blame him – he barely trust himself anymore, because he can barely _recognize_ himself now. He never wanted the role Billy created for him, but he slipped into it comfortably nonetheless. He is everything Flint accuses him of being, and yet...

Silver clenches his jaw, suddenly furious at himself. Flint doesn’t – he _cannot_ – understand. After all the time they’ve spent at each other’s side, he still isn’t able to fully access Silver’s psyche, and that is Silver’s own fault, for not being able to give him what he asked for. He knows that. He feels it with each glare directed at him. He hopes that, despite not being able to speak the words, Flint will understand, with time. He hopes the same thing can be said for Madi.

When they reach Savannah, Ben asks him if he’s going to be the one to deliver Flint to Mr Oglethorpe. Silver immediately shakes his head, although he does climb on the carriage that’s going to take them there.

Nobody says a word as they ride to the plantation. It doesn’t surprise him – it’s clear that whatever has been left unsaid between him and Flint is going to stay that way. They haven’t spoken to each other since they left Skeleton Island.

Silver watches in silence as Ben, Morgan and Hands walk with Flint to the gates. He stares, his heart in his throat, as they stop to be greeted by one of Oglethorpe’s men.

 _Turn back_ , he wants to scream, but he stays quiet, gripping his crutch until his knuckles turn white. He sees Flint tilt his head to the side for a short moment before he's welcomed onto the plantation’s grounds.

Seconds later, the gates close behind them, and Silver drops his gaze to his lap as he cries in silence – everything he does is in silence now.

**VI.**

It takes five years for Silver to find the cottage. He slowly makes his way up the gentle hill upon which it’s built, cursing his bad leg with each step on the unsure ground. He hesitates in front of the door, is arm poised and ready to knock.

He looks around – the house is humble but clearly hosts caring owners. Despite its spartan aspect, the cottage is made more welcoming by the flowers growing along the path and carefully arranged in beautiful compositions at either side of the door; behind the house, he can see a small field.

Silver steels himself, takes a deep breath and knocks. He immediately hears shuffling on the other side, and then the door opens, revealing a tall man, lean but muscled. He has short blond hair and a nicely trimmed beard. The man smiles curiously at Silver, a glint in his eyes as he takes in the crutch and the missing half of his leg.

Silver clears his throat, shifting awkwardly under the inspection, and finally introduces himself with a mumble of, “John Silver.”

The man nods, answering with a cheerful, “Thomas Hamilton,” and he readily steps aside to welcome him in. Silver eyes him warily, but enters the house and casts his eyes over the room. Much like the outside, the inside of the cottage is neat and simple, with only a few items or furniture.

“Take a seat, Mr Silver. I imagine James will join us shortly.” Silver watches as Thomas gestures towards what he assumes is the hall that leads to the bedroom. He nods jerkily and does as he’s told. In the meantime, Thomas bustles around to prepare the tea.

“I have to admit,” Thomas starts as he’s waiting for the water to boil, “that you’re not what I expected.” Silver simply cocks his head to the side, waiting for him to clarify.

“Well, for starters, you are much shorter,” Silver snorts and Thomas smiles at him, “and you look – younger, I guess, than what I thought you would be. James never mentioned how old-“

“He doesn’t know,” Silver interrupts him, with a shrug. Then, as he continues to look at Thomas, he adds, “You’re not what I had pictured either. I – pardon me, but I wasn’t expecting you to _smile_ after all that has happened to you.”

Thomas’s eyes soften at that. He brings three cups to the table and sets the teapot in the middle. He opens his mouth, but the voice that replies to Silver’s comment is not his.

“Not all of us are defined by our past.”

Silver’s head snaps up to meet James’s glare. He swallows thickly. James hasn’t changed a lot in five years – his hair is longer and more than a few strands have turned grey, and he’s more relaxed, but apart from that, he looks exactly as Silver remembered him.

“What are you doing here?” The former captain asks, his tone harsh.

Silver ignores Thomas’s sigh and he lets his eyes fall to the cup in his hands, making it spin between his calloused fingers as he replies, “I have nowhere else to go.”

It’s a lie. He could have stayed where he was instead of departing for this journey, but he is very much aware of the fact that he is unwanted there. Here? He is not sure yet. He hopes he can be.

He hears James sit heavily on the opposite side of the table, and only lifts his head when he’s asked, “Where’s Madi?”

Silver tells them. He tells them everything – starting from the day he’d returned to Maroon Island and agreed on a treaty with Julius. He tells them about Madi’s reaction and her distrust in his story about Flint’s undoing. He tells them how he waited for her to understand him – he chokes down a sigh when James averts his during this part – and of her ultimate decision to leave with him so they could start anew.

He tells them of their journey to England, of the small tavern they purchased in Bristol and the difficulties they encountered as they got started. He tells them about the fights – from getting married, to having children, to the most trivial things like whose turn it was to cook that day – and of their final resolution to part ways.

“She kept the tavern. She can’t openly state it’s hers, but she manages everything related to it. She told me I could stay there, that she wanted me to be safe, and that she still cared for me despite our relationship not working as we’d hoped, but-“ Silver shrugs, letting the sentence linger in the air, unfinished.

They are all silent for a few moments, until Jams says, “You still haven’t told us why you chose to come here.”

Silver shifts on his chair, pushing the half-finished cup of tea to the side as he feels his throat constrict painfully. He spares a glance at Thomas before replying quietly, “There were many things left unsaid between us.”

James’s right eyebrow rises, silently urging him to continue. Silver keeps moving restlessly on his chair. “Can we...?”

“No.” James snaps, ruthless. He even glares at Thomas when he sees him open his mouth. The man barely nods and takes his partner’s hand in an openly affectionate gesture, with a small, sad smile.

With his eyes set on their joined hands, Silver steels himself for what he has to say next. With the passing years, he has grown more accustomed to the words flashing in his head every now and then, although this is going to be the first time he expresses the thought out loud. Maybe it’s for the best that Thomas is here, so Silver can better justify the inevitable rejection with his presence.

“I love you.” He states, plainly, the words forcing themselves through his gritted teeth as he fights to get them out in the open once and for all.

An uneasy silence sets on the room. Silver feels as though the world stopped for a moment as soon as the words are out. He holds his breath, waiting, watching as Thomas squeezes James’s hand. He only lifts his eyes when James clears his throat, blinking rapidly as if to will away stubborn tears.

“How long?” It’s Thomas who asks it in the end. 

When he gives his answer, Silver’s words are directed at Thomas, but his eyes never leave James’s, “Just after the events of Charlestown.”

James stares at him, and Silver understands he’s waiting for him to be more accurate.

“That time in your cabin, after one of the raids. I suggested we take you off of the vanguard and you refused. I was worried you were going to get yourself killed before I could figure out a way to help you.”

The former captain doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything, and the silence stretches on for long moments. Silver is about to stand and thank Thomas for the tea when he finally speaks,“The time we killed the sharks, after you told me the truth about the Urca gold.”

Silver looks at him, baffled, trying to find an answer. He quickly realizes that it wasn’t a question, but a reply. A bargain. A confession for a confession.

He meets James’s eyes and nods, then, slowly, he does the same with Thomas. As he reaches out to cover their joined hands with his and squeeze, Silver feels the ghost of a smile on his lips. He knows he hasn’t been forgiven, but he has been accepted and welcomed, and for now, that’s all he needs.


End file.
